Riding on the Wyre

Down at my mum's for the weekend, I popped out for a couple of hours round Wyre Forest. It's one of those places that hides its good points very well. If you follow the marked trails, you'll spend a pleasant if dull time riding forest roads. If you treat the 'no cycling' signs as an invitation, you'll likely find some really tasty trails.
The trouble is, like I said, the good stuff is tucked away and forms a web of interlinking trails that go nowhere in particular. I get down there only a couple of times a year and just can't get a mental map of where each trail is. As a result I pootle around, lost and disorientated, sometimes finding the good stuff, sometimes not. The good stuff is very nice though, as fine as any forested singletrack I have ridden. Not technical, but fast and twisty and satisfying in way that those man made trail centres don't seem to manage. I really ought to hook up with some locals next time.

Find my elderly friend Oldgit over here

Ruthin Merida

Sunday saw the start of the Ruthin Merida, a mountain biking 'enduro' event in the Clwydian hills in Wales. You can do 25, 50, 75 or 100km on a marked course. I'd entered the 100 in an attempt to tick off one of my biking goals this year - a 100km enduro on the singlespeed.

1000 of us set of in a bunch at 9:30 (after obediently dipping our wheels in the disinfectant bath, foot and mouth having popped up again in Surrey or somewhere). Me and Wayne took a leisurely start at the back of the bunch, both intending to do a steady singlespeedy and relax into the ride. The first climbs and narrowings resulted in a 20 minute jam, and riding snailspace up steep roads is hard when you haven't got a low gear. Things got moving, eventually.

I felt pretty rough for the first half, and even considered cutting short onto the 50 or 75km, I've had a cold for a few days. I switched my brain off as best I could and just plodded on. Wayne had pulled away into the distance after an hour or so. The trails were a mix of forest tracks, moorland singletrack and grassy drags, with a real surfeit of climbing, 3000m of it. Just as I had got my head around this being a bit of a grim ordeal, I started to feel better and picked up the pace a little. After an hour or so I caught Wayne, stood at the side of the trail waving his arms up and down. He'd got a singlespeeders cramp, the muscles on his shoulder blades had seized after too much hauling on the bars on the interminable climbs.

We rode the rest together, and finished smiling, after 6:45. Nick Craig did about 4:30 :o)

Back in action

Its been an age since I last posted, blogging disappeared off my radar for a few months. No real reason, I just got busy and forgot about it.

Life and riding bikes has carried on apace in the last few months, nothing exceptional to report on, more of the same really. Oh, I did have a trip to Spain with FreerideSpain, which was the usual mix of staggeringly technical trails and laid back guiding. More on that, perhaps, another time.

The usual Thursday night ride tonight, we're back to needing lights for the end of the ride which is a slightly sad reminder that summer (what summer??) is nearly over. But the novelty and pleasure of riding into the twilight hasn't worn off yet, so that's good.

Me and a few of the Peakmidweekers are off to do the Ruthin Merida this weekend. I'll be having a go at the 100km distance on the singlespeed, which should be a bit of a challenge. I'd better take it easy tonight I guess. More soon.

Hope

It was a ride from Hope last night. “Hope at 7pm Thursday” or “Hope at 10am Sunday” has become a bit of a running joke amongst the Peakmidweek lot, being a byword for not having much imagination. The thing is though; it’s a focus point for lots of great rides, the best in the Peak really. If only the Woodbine caff would open ‘til 10:30 on a Thursday night, it would be perfection.

Me, Derek, Steve ‘n Steve and Wayne turned up. 4 singlespeeds (2 Love/Hates, one Genesis and a Bodgervento) and a Pastey Ti with a cracked weld. We could either be an eclectic bunch of discerning riders on very individual bikes, or a bunch of sheep following the latest fad, you choose. It turns out we are all doing the Merida Enduro in Builth Wells in a few weeks time, and are all reasonably matched, so it could be a good little race if anyone wants to pick up the gauntlet.

It was a slightly drizzly night, but the trails were still summer firm. The grass on the way over to Old Dam was nice and slick though, and had me sliding a few times. It was one of those nights where the legs work well, but the brain and reflexes were having a nap. Every stone and bump had a little evil pair of eyes and cackled at me as I pinged of each one like a billiard ball. The “flow” had deserted me, it had pissed of into the “zone” or something.

Still, we had a laugh, Wayne got overly competitive then fell off on a pebble on a flat trail, in full view which was very good of him. Derek rode to and from Hope on his singlespeed, it’s his ‘endurance’ week which means something like 14 hours in the saddle, ouch.

A Summer's Evening in March

The clocks went back at the weekend, or was it forward? Anyhow, there is more daylight in the evenings now. I couldn’t ride this weekend because we had visitors and pissing off out on my bike would have been considered rude (although there is a good chance they’d be glad to see me go…but that’s another story). I decided to sneak a few hours out on Monday evening.

My 5 year old wanted me to stay in and play with him, giving me some good pangs of guilt, but MrsShonky told me to get out on my bike, so I did what I was told.

It was clear, sunny and windy cool. The trails had virtually dried into their summer state, the boggy trudge sections had turned into springy peat and turf and the rocky stuff had got nice and gravely and crunchy with lots of stones spitting out from under your tyres. I saw a hare, he loped along in front of me for a bit before giving me a backward look and stepping aside to watch me go past. I think he was enjoying the early summer too.

The shooting cabin descent was a blast, I am getting used to the capabilities of the Rocky Ridge so I hooned it down the rocky singletrack. You have to pull your weight over the front to make the Marzocchi AM2 forks do their stuff, it’s not intuitive for me, but it really works. I only needed the lights for the last half hour. Lovely, long may it last. There is snow forecast for the weekend though…

Update

Another long gap since I last posted.

Since then I have:

Been to Amsterdam. What a great city. Beautiful, relaxed, cultured and chock full of cyclists. They weave in and out of the traffic, carrying umpteen bags of shopping, with a child on the kiddie seat, all the while talking into a mobile phone. The cars look out for them and everyone shares the road really well. Apparently it is one of the safest cities to ride in Europe. We have a lot to learn.

Had a pay rise – woohoo. I’m a contractor and the hourly rates have been going up recently. A quick chat with the bosses and a few days later I get a nice pay rise. At least I can tell the agents I’m not interested when they phone. Most of the new money will disappear into fixing up the new house though.

Booked some family holidays – Menorca, Northumberland and Wales. And I go to Spain at the end of April for a long weekend with Freeride Spain.

Entered the first Merida in Builth Wells, 75km on the 15th April, on a singlespeed.

Entered the Dialled Bikes Rough Ride in May.

Ridden with the Hobo lot from Bikemagic, round the Peak. A great bunch, good riders, and a superb day out.

Erm, that’ll do for now.

Monday nightride

I took a couple of hours out last Monday night to give the new tubeless tyres a test. Chinley Churn was muddy and nasty, but the skies were clear and the moon was almost full. The views over Manchester were pin sharp, and the thought of all the drones sat in their Barrett homes watching Eastenders gave me a smug satistfaction. I put some earphones in and cruised my way over the tops and down to Hayfield on a happy high.

The tyres felt a little strange. I could easily feel the ‘thin-ness’ of the Racing Ralph on the back, which was unnerving, but it hooked up really well (except for the muddy sections). The front Nobby Nic was little different to usual, just a bit softer. I held back though, not wanting a blow out and crash up on the dark moors on my own. Apparently Racing Ralphs will give out quite quickly used tubeless like this, the sidewalls can’t take the Peak abrasion. We’ll see.

Towards the end of the ride, spinning along the Sett Valley trail, I startled an owl out of the trees right over my head. It dropped off its branch, spread its wings and glided directly ahead of me for a couple of seconds, lit up by my headlight, before doing a lazy turn and swooping out of view.

I did a true 'northern grit' ride into the teeth of a gale (it'll be a hurricane next time I tell the tale), sleet and rain blowing up my nostrils and out of my ears. It were so windy the sheep were blowing past me. Cold too, although I only wore 3/4s, being a hard (stupid and almost hypothermic) fooker.I actually gave up after about two and a half hours, having worn our my rear disc pads, and coughing up grit that had made it's way up my back passage and right through my digestive tract. I must put the mudguard on next time.

I tried to make it out in time to meet up with some friends in Hayfield, but didn’t get away in time. It was a day when I really needed company.

Tubeless tryes and unfeasible thighs

I converted the wheels on the Love/Hate to an Eclipse tubeless system at the weekend. This means you can use normal tyres on a normal rim, but without tubes, meaning a nice lightweight set up and in theory, no punctures. Sounds too good to be true? Have a look at JustRiding Along. It wasn’t a pain free experience and involved a lot of huffing on the track pump trying to get the tyres seated on the rim, mucho latex being spilled everywhere and some doubts as to whether it was going to work at all. I gave up, it was Friday evening and I decided to drink some beer and try and forget about it.

Saturday started early, the kids were up at 6am, and I was groggy (beer and after midnight bedtime). Mrs Shonky was away on a ‘fitness weekend’ (a bunch of women drinking too much wine and doing the odd aerobics class), so I had no chance of a lie in. Mulling over the tyre problem, I realised that the solution was to get a big blast of air into the tyres really fast – like using a CO2 cartridge. As soon as I got a spare few minutes, I tried this and it worked first time.

No chance to test the new tyres out this weekend though.

Saturday night I had arranged a babysitter so I could go to see the World Cup Track Racing at the Manchester Velodrome. I’ve ridden there once, but this was the first time I’d been as a spectator. I didn’t know what to expect, and was prepared for it to be a bit dull. It was superb. The racing was exciting, we had seats near the finish line, the British riders won lots of races and the atmosphere was great. The sprinters are huge brutes, you don’t realise until you see them close up. They have the most unfeasible looking thighs, like something off a cartoon. Definitely a good evening out. I’ll take Mrs Shonky next time, she’ll appreciate the muscles and lycra.